The Night America Came To Visit
by JoyHeart
Summary: One Shot, two stories: Canada is forced to entertain Alfred and Arthur without warning, and in a less-than-brief interlude we learn about how France discovered Canada.


**The Night America Came To Visit- Part 1**

It was a cold, dark night. The sky was overcast, and a light snow was falling on the pavement, sparkling as it passed through the pools of light formed from the streetlamps lining either side of the road. Identical suburbean houses lined the road behind the streetlamps. The houses were painted light grey, two stories tall, with a single car garage attached on the right side. A lone figure stood in the center of the road looking bewildered as the snow fell and accumulated on the ground. The snow rose into a dusting, into piles, into drifts. The wind picked up and the snow fell faster, in larger flakes. The figure shivered. His dark blond hair was weighed down by the flakes that were slowly collecting on his head. His glasses were too wet to see through. His nose ran and froze, turning blue with cold. His teeth chattered and he clutched himself, shivering violently. His brown bomber jacket was dripping wet and slowly freezing.

From a non-descript house to the figure's left side, another man ran out into the snow. What he wore appeared similar to the first man, but his hair was a bit longer, with an odd curl that hung down near his cheek. He clutched a white bear to his chest, and unlike the first man did not seem at all cold as the wind and snow blew around him. He did however seem concerned for the man shivering in the snow on his street.

"America? America what are you doing out in the snow and freezing? Are you okay?" the second man asked the first, his voice was soft but still sounded urgent despite this.

"C-C-C-C-C-Canad-d-d-da?" the first man struggled to turn his head, snot-cicles breaking as he did so, and cried, "I-I-I-I-I c-came to v-v-vist f-for the W-Winter C-C-Carnival b-but I c-couldn't find your h-h-house. Th-they all l-look the same to me!" Tears poured from his eyes as he whined, turning to ice cubes on impact with the air.

"Oh, but, would you like to come inside then? You look cold," Canada said, looking at America with round eyes. The white bear in his grasp looked at America curiously as well.

"Y-yes! W-which one is your house?"" America asked enthusiastically looking around. By this point the falling snow had covered Canada's footprints.

Canada looked behind him where his footprints had been moments earlier. He looked at the houses on the left side of the street. Then at the identical ones on the right side of the street. Both men stood in silence for a short time.

"Uh, Canada?" America asked, wondering what his northern neighbour was waiting for.

"Oh, America I'm so sorry, I don't know which one is my house either," Canada said, his cheeks turning light pink in embarassment.

**HETALIA!**

"WHAAAAAAAT?" America screamed, throwing his hands above his head and breaking the rest of the ice that had been steadily encasing him as he jumped up and down, flailing his arms about as he raged at Canada for being an idiot. Canada did not meet America's eyes, preferring to observe the fallen snow and mutter about how sorry he was. It was then, however, that a door to the left of them opened and friendly yellow light splashed across the drift in front of them. Both America and Canada saw a third man standing in the doorframe. He had short blond hair and very bushy eyebrows.

"Canada? Who is it out there? Do you need any help?" the third man asked into the blizzard.

"England?" Canada said in surprise, "Oh, no, that's okay, it's only America."

"WHAT? You have England here too? Why?" America looked offended. Canada turned to him in surprise now.

"But America, surely you know that I am friends with England? I even have his boss on my money, see?" Canada reached into his pocket and produced a yellow coin with a bird on it. He flipped it over to reveal a profile portrait of Queen Elizabeth II.

"Oh, but..." America still looked confused, "Didn't I rescue you from being ruled by England already? I thought I sent some guys to take care of that a while ago..."

"Well, no, actually we fought you off together with England and those loyal to England that you drove northward before, and we... er... we burned down your White House, remember?" Canada muttered into the fur of his white bear.

America's cheeks lit up and he looked away, "What? What was that Canada? You're talking too soft again, you'll never get away from England like that! Don't worry, I'll make sure he gets out of your house! Him with his big ugly eyebrows and his terrible food and his bad breath..."

"Hey! I can hear you, you know!" England snapped from the doorway.

**HETALIA!**

"Come on Canada, it's cold out!" England waved at the man with the bear.

"It is?" Canada blinked, "I didn't notice. Well... if you want to come in America, you still can!"

"Of course my good friend _Canada_," America said cheekily putting a crushing arm around Canada's shoulders and steering him towards the house. As they passed England he hissed loudly, "I would never leave you alone with an _insane_ person like England. By the way, did you know that he still has imaginary friends?"

"Eh?" Canada looked frightened, struggling in America's grip, "America, that's too tight!"

"Imaginary friends?" England said with a frown, shutting the front door, "What on earth could he be talking about, Uni?"

"I don't know England," the blue unicorn beside him replied.

"Probably just America being ridiculous again. I'm suprised he didn't bring his weird alien thing with him!" England laughed. As he laughed, the blue unicorn laughed too, as did the elves and the fairies, the pegasus and the leprechauns and all the rest of England's special buddies.

"E-England?" Canada asked hesitantly as he watched England laughing wildly to himself across the empty room.

"What did I tell you Canada? Insane," America said with a nod towards the laughing man.

"Oh dear," Canada whispered, looking down at his bear.

"Who are you?" asked the bear.

"I'm your owner, Canada."

"Never heard of you," the bear replied.

**TO BE CONTINUED**

...

**The North America Family**

A long time ago (not that long mind, but long enough) France decided to set out on some ships across the Atlantic to the New World in the hopes of claiming new territories there as Spain had been doing at the time. France's journey however led him to the most northern landmass in the New World, and he soon discovered that the land he had come to might not have been as exciting as he had once hoped.

"Zut! It's f-f-freezing! And the ships are all t-trapped in ice so I'm trapped here all winter!" France wailed, shivering in a log cabin in the middle of a frozen field, next to a frozen river. It was freezing indeed. France was just beginning to wonder how he was possibly going to survive out here, and what he would tell his government when he returned with nothing of value to show for his efforts, when a knock was heard at his cabin door.

"Que? Who could be visiting me out here in this horrible, freezing weather?" France sniffed, shook the frost from his wavy golden locks and straighted his blue jacket before answering the door. (He couldn't stand to look unkept if had guests over.) When the door opened however, France could not see anyone there at first. With a scowl, France almost closed the door when he suddenly heard the softest of voices coming from his feet. He didn't catch what it said, but when he looked down he saw a tiny boy with dark blond hair and big blue eyes. He was wearing a feather in his hair and was clutching a white bear cub to his chest.

"What? Oh, aren't you so cute! Are you a country? Come in, it's cold!" France reached down and plucked the little boy off the ground and carried him inside.

"Cold? I don't feel, y-you can put me down now please!" the small country squeaked as France sat himself down and put the little boy in his lap, cuddling him. The white bear growled a bit.

"I haven't gotten to hug something so cute in aaaaaages!" France moaned, stroking the child's hair now, "What's your name?"

"I-It's Canada," Canada looked extremely terrified as France continued stroking his head.

"Well Canada, I'm your new big brother France!"

"Oh maple," Canada mumbled as France played with one of the child's dark blond locks.

"Of course we'll have to do something about this hair first. And get rid of this feather!" he tossed it aside. Canada looked to protest but France talked over him with ease, "Yes, we'll grow it out, and comb it, and use the finest products and make it absolutely beautiful! Oh, what's this hair?" France blinked as he noticed a long strand that hung in Canada's face and curled. He grabbed it. "We'll just pull this one out and-"

"NO!" Canada screamed and dodged back, holding his head in terror. France stared.

"Well, I guess if you like that strand so much then..." his eyebrow cocked upwards in confusion. This was the start of an odd relationship indeed.

**HETALIA!**

Only a few years later, France was sitting out in a nice grassy field in the New World with Canada sitting contently in his lap, nibbling on some delicious French delecacies and looking altogether content. The young country missed his feather, but France let him keep carrying his bear cub with him because it apparently looked very cute. Canada did love his bear friend, even if he could never quite recall his name, and even if the bear never remembered who he was, Canada loved it all the same and he was glad to keep it. He also didn't mind what France had done with his hair. It was grown out to his shoulders now and looked very silky and shiny, having been brushed by France every day.

However on this day, Canada couldn't help but notice that his big brother looked a bit put out, what with his gloomy expression and melodramatic sniffles. Though knowing the Frenchman was unlikely to hear Canada's voice, the small boy could not help but try and talk to his big brother.

"Big brother France?" Canada whispered hopefully, "Are you alright?"

Though France would normally have overlooked Canada's voice, today he had been waiting and carefully listening for that very question.

"OH CANADA!" France cried, grabbing the little country, bear and all, and crushing him to his chest in a fevorish hug. Canada gasped and struggled for breath as France went into the rant he'd been holding in, "I was going to get another little brother that lived to the South of you, and England came and stole him from me!"

Canada managed to get enough air to choke out a noise France took to mean 'go on' when in truth probably meant something closer to 'someone help oh maple why?'

"I mean I offered little America all the delicious food his taste buds could desire, you like it _ne faire pas vous?_ But the child looks straight past me at England lying in his well accepted defeat and goes and picks him over me!" France let out a wail at this point, "I just know that bushy eyebrowed _cochon_ used his black magic to trick him into it, it's not fair!" France seemed to notice that Canada was turning an unpleasant shade of blue at this point and relaxed his hold a little, "Oh, _pardon_ Canada! You should have said something," France let out a heavy sigh, "Well, I suppose I have to go back home and tell my boss I couldn't secure America for him. But at least I was able to visit my cute little brother Canada while I was here! I still have you, and I'll never, ever lose you to that bushy haired _cochon, oui_?"

ON FRANCE'S NEXT VISIT...

France burst through the doors of the house he had lavishly built for himself and his little New World brother looking happy and dazzlingly fabulous as usual. "Bonjour Canada! How are you on this lovely day? You're wonderful big brother has come to vi... sit... yooooou..." France trailed off. Canada was trembling in a chair as America poked his cheek and England held up a long lock of hair to a pair of scissors and snipped. Canada looked at France with wide eyes. England and America also looked up in surprise. France stared at the sight, his eyes welling with tears.

"Um... b-big brother?" Canada asked tentively, his voice barely audible.

"CANADA HOW COULD YOOOOOOOOU?" France screamed in an anguished wail.

**HETALIA!**

"Look, I can't help it if you left the defenseless kid here while you were gone," England snapped at the distraught France. America and Canada had been sent upstairs while their big brothers fought over this mess.

"You're one to talk! You leave America alone all the time, but I never swept in and stole him from you!" France sobbed, pointing an accusitory finger at the Brit.

England growled under his breath before responding sharply, "America is perfectly fine when I leave him, he's strong. But look at that kid Canada, he can barely make himself noticed and lives in this harsh climate- at least where America is he can go south where it's warm! I found Canada wandering around in a blizzard, and only because I happened to step on him!"

France pouted. "That doesn't give you the right to come into my house and start shaving all his hair off!"

"I wasn't shaving it all off! I was just cutting it- it was way too long!"

"Well fine! I know how to settle this, we'll do it just like America, only this time I KNOW my little Canada will DEFINATELY pick me as his brother!" France nodded firmly.

England frowned, "Um, France, I don't actually want Canada as a brother, I just wanted-"

"NOT ANOTHER WORD EYEBROWS!" France roared, "Canada will decide this! Canada! CANADA COME DOWN TO BIG BROTHER!" France yelled up the stairs.

In the bedroom, America had been poking Canada's cheek for a while. Canada looked uncomfortable and kept telling him to stop, but America didn't seem to hear him, or was at least ignoring him. When France's voice reached upstairs, America just poked harder.

"America, I have to go now..." Canada murmured, trying to rise. America grabbed his wrist and pulled him down, still happily poking his cheek, "Really America..."

"CANADA COME HERE!"

"But, but I'm trying to..." Canada said softly, looking at his bear with slightly frightened eyes. The bear looked at his master he didn't normally remember, looked at his attacker, and lashed out to bite him. It wasn't a particularly hard bite, but it did draw blood from America's hand.

"WAAAAAAAAH! ENGLAND! BIG BROTHER!" America cried, running from the room. Canada sighed, patted his bear, and left as well. He reached his brother and England in the living room where England was already fussing over America's wound. Luckily America's wails made him too incoherent to say exactly what had happened.

"Now then my most adorable and darling little brother Canada!" France said in his sweetest honey-coated tone, "I want you to choose between myself and that English _cochon_ over there, who would you rather be your big brother?"

England couldn't help but turn curious eyes to the little quiet boy who was staring at France in shock. Was his brother seriously asking him to make such a choice? He knew France had cuddled him and given him many lovely things to eat, but then England had saved him from the storm that time (even if he had crushed him with his foot first), so then, how could he choose between them?

"Eh, I... um... I pick both?" Canada said hopefully. England straightened in an instant, staring at Canada in confusion. Could... could he do something like that?

"WHAAAAAT? You WANT this eyebrowed cochon? CANADA HOW COULD YOOOOOOOU?" France wailed and ran upstairs to his bedroom and slammed the door. Exaggerated crying was heard behind the door for quite a while afterwards. Downstairs, Canada looked up at England.

"I'm sorry, maple, I think I caused you trouble..." Canada whispered, kneeding his hands together. America was still moaning over his small bite in the corner though it had already stopped bleeding. England looked at the kid with the bear for a while. He... he was pretty cute he supposed. And now that he really looked at both America and Canada side by side, they looked a lot alike. Almost like twin when you got down to it. Little twin brothers... he could get used to that.

"Oh don't worry about it. I'm sure France and I will work something out regarding you," England sighed with a smile, putting a hand on Canada's head. America watched with exchange with wide eyes and ran over to England, tugging on his pant leg. England looked at the other young nation with kind eyes and placed his other hand on America's head. He rubbed their identically coloured hair in a slow, circular pattern. England grinned, "I'm sure you two will be the best of friends!"

America glared at Canada and punched him. Canada's eyes watered and he snivelled. England frowned. Maybe, just maybe, he spoke too soon.

...

**The Night America Came to Visit- Part 2**

"So, what's for dinner Canada?" America asked loudly as he grabbed his knife and fork and started banging them on the table like an obnoxious child at a summer camp.

"Oh, just some McDonalds food. I went out earlier to get it because England came over on short notice and I didn't know if anyone else was coming or what they would want so I got one of everything they had," Canada said softly, gesturing into his dining room where the table was covered in wrapped hamburgers, fries, mcnuggets and several different drinks.

"Canada! Wow, we're way more alike than I ever thought!" America exclaimed excitedly as he dove for the burgers. Canada and England looked on in shared horror as America by himself consumed half the contents of the table in seconds before stopping suddenly as he observed a bowl of french fries covered in gravy and cheese. He looked at it for a moment and shot Canada a bemused look.

"Oh, um, that's poutine," Canada supplied helpfully.

"What?" America asked with a frown, "Gravy and cheese on fries... weird." He tossed the poutine over his shoulder and continued with the more familiar foods.

"Ah! No don't throw it away!" Canada cried out, reaching forward to grab the flying bowl. Just before he caught it however, England's hands shot out instinctively and snatched it from the air. He looked at it curiously for a moment before grabbing a particularly soggy fry and popping it into his mouth. America looked up from his binge and he, Canada and Canada's bear watched England as he slowly chewed on the fry.

Then a sour expression crossed his face.

"Even my food is better than this crap."

"What?" Canada's eyes teared up and he looked down in dark shame as America burst into laughter.

**HETALIA!**

"But I like my poutine..." Canada murmured, poking at the fries in the bowl as his two 'friends' ate at his dinner table and not heard by anyone.

"Anyway England, stay away from Canada! I'm thinking of aknowledging him as my brother, and I already TOLD you I don't want to be your brother!" America snapped between bites of his Big Mac.

"Your brother? B-but America, I d-don't want to be..." Canada trailed off when he realised no one was listening.

England looked down at his chicken mcnuggets with an unreadable expression. "I know, America."

"So yeah, stay away from Canada," America nodded, and took a loud slurp of his coke.

England looked up in a glare. "Look, I understand that you don't want to be my little brother anymore, but Canada still wants to, so it's his decision! Even if he... well..." England looked at Canada and for once both the other countries stopped to direct their attention at the neighbour of the north. Unfortunately, he had given up on trying to get their notice by this point and was staring off into the distance.

"I wish big brother France would come visit me again like old times..." Canada said in a far away manner.

"WHAT? That snail eater is your big brother? But I thought England..." America turned to the bushy haired island country in shock. Canada looked up then too, unaware he had spoken out loud.

"Oh maple! I'm sorry, I didn't mean-!" Canada looked quite flustered.

"I _am_ his big brother," England growled, "France gave up on him and left ages ago. Unlike with _you_ America, Canada wouldn't pick one of us so we were both his big brothers for a while. Eventually France got pissed off sharing with me and left. Canada's fine with it, he just sometimes misses him, I don't get why though."

Canada sighed, "Well, I did get my poutine recipe from him."

"Really? Weird, that frog is usually a pretty good chef..." England muttered.

"Of course he did give it to me just as he was leaving. He said I should feed it to you next time you came by, England!" Canada smiled.

"That explains it," England sighed.

"WAIT A MINUTE HOLD THE PHONE WHAAAAAAAAAT? Canada is half French?" America blinked, wide eyed and horrified. Canada leaned back away from America's accusitory look with wide eyes.

"Y-yes?" he said weakly.

"Say something in French!" America demanded.

"Eh, eh, Je suis Canada? Érable?"

"Woah, uh... hey look at the time!" America said, looking at his bare wrist with a shaky expression, "I'd better be getting back home! See you later England, have fun with Canada!" With this, America ran out of the house as though the building was on fire.

"What was that? I only said 'I am Canada' and 'Maple'," Canada looked concerned.

"The last time America let french into his country he got Louisianna, so I don't exactly blame him for not wanting you as a brother right now," England shrugged.

"Oh," Canada nodded in understanding.

**HETALIA!**

"By the way, your french accent is terrible," England observed.

"Oh..." Canada looked down in shame.

**TO BE CONTINUED... MAYBE. ACTUALLY MOST LIKELY NOT SINCE I HAVE NO TIME FOR ANYTHING WHAT WITH WRITING MY MANUAL FIC BUT HOPE YOU ENJOYED ANYWAY. REVIEWS ARE TASTY WITH CRACKERS.**


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